Sick Day
by jazzakai2000
Summary: Reid gets a cold and his girlfriend Diana Moonstone decides to read to him.


**Reid gets a cold and his girlfriend Diana Moonstone decides to read to him. Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or The Raven by Edgar Alan Poe**

* * *

><p>"Ahh choo."<p>

Dr. Spencer Reid never really knew better. On his last case, the team was in Wisconsin, mid fall. They arrived late at night and he hadn't packed a coat. So he now was suffering for that spilt second decision. The one good thing was that he had the love of his life Diana Moonstone watching over him. He felt bad for making her stay home with him, but didn't mind at the same time. Before joining the BAU, Diana owned a natural remedy shop outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and could whip up teas that rivaled prescription medication and pain killers. It was helpful for him in his sobriety from dilaudid and pain killers. She was in the kitchen making an herbal time and chicken soup. He on the other hand was tucked in bed with nothing but a box of tissues and a book that he had read a hundred times over. All he really wanted was to be at the office working on his paperwork and joking with his teammates.

"Diana?"

"Yes Dear."

"Can I please come out and pick a new book? I know you want me to stay in bed and rest but I can't with this stuffy nose."

She walked into the room, tray in hand with a cup of tea and bowl of soup. "How about this, you drink and eat all of this and I'll read to you one."

"Sometimes you act too much like a mother then a lover."

"Any true woman acts this way. Look at Penelope. She bakes cookies when someone gets out of the hospital and spoils Henry beyond reason. Which you should do more of"

"Don't you start that. I can't properly defend myself in this condition."

"You brought it upon yourself by not taking a coat when I told you it was going to be cold." She shook her head. "So are you going to take me up on my offer?"

"Yeah, why not."

"I have the perfect book in mind. Stay here and drink that." She pointed to the cup of tea before leaving the room. He sipped on the green tea with honey. Soon enough, Diana returned with a black hardcover book. He recognized it as the book she had given him on his birthday, Edgar Allan Poe: Complete Tales and Poems. He knew every word of every story of the gothic author.

"Ah. Good choice. Which one are you going to read?"

"_The Raven. _Now sit back and eat." She sat next to him, propped against the head board. She began to read:

"_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,  
>Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,<br>While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
>As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.<br>`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door"_

"_Only this, and nothing more," _Reid finished.

She gave him a look before continuing.

"_Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,  
>And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.<br>Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow  
>From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -<br>For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -  
>Nameless here for evermore.<em>

_And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
>Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;<br>So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating  
>`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -<br>Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -  
>This it is, and nothing more,"<em>

She looked to see him drinking more of the tea.

"Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,  
>`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;<br>But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,  
>And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,<br>That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -  
>Darkness there, and nothing more.<p>

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,  
>Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;<br>But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,  
>And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'<br>This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'  
>Merely this and nothing more."<p>

Reid couldn't help it anymore and continued the gothic poem.

_"Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
>Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.<br>`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;  
>Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -<br>Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -  
>'Tis the wind and nothing more!'<em>

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,  
>In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.<br>Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;  
>But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -<br>Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -  
>Perched, and sat, and nothing more.<p>

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,  
>By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,<br>`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.  
>Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -<br>Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'  
>Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<p>

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,  
>Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;<br>For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being  
>Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -<br>Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,  
>With such name as `Nevermore.'<p>

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,  
>That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.<br>Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -  
>Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -<br>On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'  
>Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'<p>

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,  
>`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,<br>Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster  
>Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -<br>Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore  
>Of "Never-nevermore."'<p>

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,  
>Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;<br>Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking  
>Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -<br>What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore  
>Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'<p>

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing  
>To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;<br>This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining  
>On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,<br>But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

_She__shall press, ah, nevermore!_

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer  
>Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.<br>`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee  
>Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!<br>Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'  
>Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<p>

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -  
>Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,<br>Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -  
>On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -<br>Is there -

_is__ there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'  
>Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<em>

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!  
>By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -<br>Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,  
>It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -<br>Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'  
>Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<p>

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -  
>`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!<br>Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!  
>Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!<br>Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'  
>Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<p>

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
>On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;<br>And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
>And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;<br>And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor"

"_Shall be lifted - nevermore!," _Diana finished. "Remind me next time you get sick to find something you haven't read"

"Promise." He gave her a quick kiss while she wasn't paying attention.

"No far. If I get sick you better take care of me for the day too."

"I promise that too."

Diana placed the book on the nightstand before turning out the light. "I guess the only way you'll sleep is if I'm in here right?"

"You got it." He held her in his arms before falling asleep.

* * *

><p>"Spencer, please bring me my tea and tissues please." Diana was sick just afew day after Reid. He stayed home to care for her as she did for him. But this time they were wiser in keeping there distance.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Just a cute little ending. Please Read and Review!<br>**


End file.
